Silk
by Accidental Human Contact
Summary: Abandoned WiP I started when I was 15. Kept here because I'm sentimental like that. Draco writes poetry. Harry is fascinated. slash.
1. everything about you

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I bow before the genius that is J. K. Rowlings.  
  
A/N: Haven't yet decided if this is a prelude to the first chapter... probably will be...  
*denotes character's direct thoughts*  
  
Draco Malfoy sat still, staring. The spider hung from the center of the web. A gentle breeze rocked the web, and reflected moonlight played along the silken strands. The imperfect symmetry of the web fascinated him. How could something so beautiful be created by something so feared, so ugly? As he turned and stared at the spider, Draco realised that he didn't think it was ugly at all. It was small and alien, a smooth emerald green creature with spindly delicate legs. It moved so... gracefully? No, not the right word. It moved with surety, navigating the fragile web with ease. He smiled gently to himself. Last night he had watched the spider devour a struggling fly. It had him as entranced by its fierceness then as it did with its grace now. Lost in thought, he failed to hear the door swing open behind him.  
  
"Malfoy? What are you doing hear?" a voice behind him demanded, shattering the illusion of peace and shaking him from his reverie. He sighed, recognizing the voice. "None of your bloody business, Potter. And, incidentally, I might ask you the same thing." At this he swung around, smirking, only to find himself staring at an empty room. His gaze swept the space before him. "P...Potter?"   
*Oh, great, hallucinating again. Wonderful.*   
"Yes?" the voice echoed from somewhere in front of him. Draco blinked and stared hard at the emptiness before him. He stood slowly, shaking his head. "Oh fabulous Draco, now you're hearing voices. Always a good sign." He scowled to himself, looking nervously around the room. "Malfoy, what ARE you talking about?" The air in front of him asked.   
  
"ARGH!" Draco threw himself backwards, eyes darting around the room.  
*Oh lord, I'm cracking up. I'm no longer certifiably sane...*   
"Who's there? Potter? What the HELL is going on?" He heard a startled exclamation from the empty space, then a soft "Oh!" of realisation. Draco blinked again, and upon opening his eyes, found that the room was no longer quite as empty as he had thought. Harry Potter had appeared in front of him. "ARGH! Where the bloody hell did you come from?" He demanded. Harry stared at the warring confusion and indignation playing across Draco's features. He struggled gallantly to keep the laughter bubbling in his chest from breaking. He succeeded for about 5 seconds. "Oh, oh you should see your face right now. Brilliant." Draco scowled at him, picking himself up and dusting himself off with as much dignity as he could muster. "Well, if you're quite finished..." he trailed off to glare at Harry in faint disgust as the other boy fought not to dissolve into another fit of laughter. Silver eyes narrowed. He'd be damned if he were going to stand around and be laughed at by Potter, of all people. He spun towards the door. "Malfoy, wait..." Harry called after him, mirth evident in his tone. Draco ignored him, slamming the door shut behind him. He stalked back towards the Slytherin common room, his mood foul.   
*How dare he! That Potter, waltzing around like he owns the bloody school!* Sneaking up on him like that... Draco pondered that for a moment, suddenly remembering that Harry had seemingly appeared from thin air...   
*Damn him! How did he do it?*   
The thought was abandoned as he reached the common room. It wasn't until some time later, drifting towards sleep, that Draco realised he'd left something in the tower... 


	2. is how I'd want to be

Disclaimer: See chapter one  
  
A/N: Welcome to chapter two. Please R&R. Constructive criticism needed! (As is barefaced flattery and hateful flames. Yep, I need 'em all!) I don't like this chapter as much as the first, so if anyone has some suggestions as to how to improve it, well, it would be much appreciated.   
  
Harry watched Malfoy storm out of the room, and made last ditch effort to stop him to try find out what he was doing here. If only he could stop laughing. "Malfoy, wait...." But Draco had gone, slamming the door (rather pettily, Harry thought) behind him. He wiped the tears from under his glasses with the corner of his robe, as his giggles subsided... only to laugh out loud as his mind conjured the image of Malfoy's startled face searching the room for 'the voice'.   
*Wait until Ron hears about this. Oh that really was far too brilliant! What   
was Malfoy, of all people, doing here at this time of night?*   
He mentally shrugged and let it slide from his mind. He let his gaze drift around the dusty room he had discovered while wandering through the astronomy tower only a couple of nights ago. For some reason the room called to him, and he found himself returning here, night after night. It was reasonably small, but it was dark and cool in an oddly comforting way. The room's best feature, however, was the arched window overlooking the grounds. Harry sighed, and settled himself on the window seat recently vacated by one Draco Malfoy.   
  
He sighed softly to himself and, pulling his feet up towards him, rested his head against his knees. The moonlight streamed through the window, reflecting softly against something right outside. Harry frowned, leaning in to look. "Argh!" He jerked backwards, tumbled and landed rather ungraciously on his backside. "Ruddy spider." Cursing all things arachnid, he crawled back onto the seat and stared at the spider in horrified fascination. He saw none of the poisonous, alien beauty reflected upon by the former occupant of the room. As if sensing the waves of hostile revulsion emanating from the boy, he spider darted forward. Harry jumped, but managed to save himself another inelegant sprawl on the floor. He shuddered slightly in revulsion. "Ergh!" he whispered quietly to himself. It was then he realized he had knocked something from the window seat onto the floor beside him.   
*Hello, what's this then?*   
Reaching over, he picked up the slim, red, leather bound book. Gold embossing glinted at him from the front cover. Harry opened the small book, curiosity getting the better of him. Manoeuvring the page into the steady moonlight, he read 'This book is cursed. Any further attempt to open these pages will result in immediate death." Harry snorted softly to himself. What kind of warning was that? He was sure he recognized the curvy, slightly effeminate writing that belonged he seemed to remember belonging to one of the students here. But as to whose... well, it eluded him completely. Sure that the book was relatively curse free, he turned the page. Harry snorted to himself as he read the title 'Poetry?' written as if by a shaking, unsure hand. Someone was obviously embarrassed by the title, but felt the need to write it anyway.   
~*Thud*~  
Harry froze, looking wildly at the door. Someone was in the corridor outside. Shaking his head to clear it, he grabbed his cloak, throwing it over himself hurriedly. Filch's voice echoed outside the door. "What's wrong my beauty? Is there someone in the tower?" Haryy cursed as he heard Mrs. Norris gave a sharp yowl, in what he supposed was an affirmative. Wincing slightly, he pushed himself right back against the far wall, throwing his cloak over himself. The door creaked open, and Filch's craven face peered through the crack, highlighted by the shifting pool of light emanating from his rusted lantern. His eyes rolled over the room once before he snarled softly and retreated. Harry stayed where he was until the footsteps disappeared into the distance. "Whoa, that was too close. AGAIN." The book he was holding snapped shut in his hand. As he walked towards the door he found himself glancing at the golden writing on the deep red cover. He almost choked in surprise, then amusement as he read "Property of Draco Malfoy" etched on the book in his hands.   
*Oh, this is too much! Draco Malfoy writes poetry?!?* 


	3. your freedom comes naturally

Disclaimer: see chapter 1  
  
A/N: This chapter's for Nicolii for putting up with my bull shite through the course of writing our LotR epic. Up for another colab, buddy? Thanks to EVERYONE who reviewed. It warms my lil' author's heart. Thanks guys.  
  
Draco's lip curled, a snarl bearing a row of fine white teeth. His book! He needed to get it back. No-one could be allowed to see it! Especially not Potter. Never Potter. Draco paled slightly at the implication. Oh god, he'd never live it down if Harry found his book... and read it. He winced, mentally kicking himself yet again.  
*What the hell was I thinking? Oh wait, I WASN'T!*   
He could feel irritation turn his stomach into a mass of knots. He was distantly surprised to realise his pulse was racing away from him.   
*Ooookay, reign in the panic Draco.*  
Jeez, what was wrong with him? A small frown graced the bow of his lips as he touched the back of one pale hand to his flushed brow. The frown deepened as he realised just how high his temperature was.   
*Breathe... just... breathe...*  
Then, a thought struck him. Potter... Potter wouldn't read his... ~*journal*~ Potter was the good one, wasn't he? The yin to Draco's stormy yang. A small smirk threatened to appear as he realised... good guys never invade others privacy. That was more HIS style. Yes, Potter wouldn't read his book. He was completely certain... wasn't he? He growled again, pacing before the window of his room. He found himself unconsciously tracing the outline of the window, etched in moonlight on his floor, as he walked. His thoughts continually whirling through the same cycle, circling over and over... Finally, he forced himself to stop before his bed. Well, it was too late to do anything about it now. He'd have to return to claim the book the next morning, while everyone was at breakfast. Hopefully he'd find it waiting for him where he'd left it. Hopefully Potter hadn't seen it. Hopefully...  
  
Harry made his way back to his dorm, carefully avoiding the route taken by Filch. As he walked, he found his gaze returning to the book in his hand. He could barely believe it. He must have made a mistake. After all, it had been very dark in the room, and the moon didn't quite provide enough light too see clearly by...   
*Of course I was bloody mistaken. Draco Malfoy (and Harry couldn't ~*quite*~  
contain the mental sneer) writes poetry? Ludicrous! I may as well have found  
a Nimbus 2000 hidden away in Hermione's closet.*  
Harry stopped, surprised to find his feet had carried him all the way to the Gryffindor common room with no conscious input from his brain. "Narfle Higgins" he stated softly. The Fat Lady glared disapprovingly at him as she swung open to admit him. Harry, caught up in the excitement of his find, didn't even notice, let alone care.   
  
"Ron? Ron... are you awake?" Harry whispered to his apparently comatose friend. The loud snore that answered him suggested a negative. He frowned, briefly considering waking the other boy, intending to share the Malfoy Incident, but instead settled back on his bed. He looked again at the book he held.   
*Should I...? Of course! This is too perfect! But... it's not right.*  
He shouldn't be invading anyone's, even Malfoy's, privacy like this.   
*Oh will you STOP being such a pussy? Malfoy wouldn't even give it a second  
thought if it were the other way round and you know it!*   
Still... he wasn't Malfoy. And he knew how he'd feel if Malfoy read his journal...   
*Oh for crying out loud!*  
Harry's brain, apparently sick of arguing with itself, had whipped the book open before he had a chance to think any further. He stared at the page in front of him, taking a while to process the information... On the left hand page was beautifully drawn ice statue, shades of blue and purple ink intertwined, etching out the form of an imposing woman, head held high. On the opposite page was the elaborately decorated title "The Ice Queen". Harry guiltily scanned the following page of verse, only to find himself drawn into the deftly woven words that seemed to flow and echo through his mind. The poem was about a beautiful glacial woman. A Queen with a heart made of ice... and yet her subject loved her and followed her loyally, trying not to shatter the frozen, yet fragile woman. It ripped him apart when her cool gaze threw contempt his way, yet he still strove to please her, to thaw that frosty shell and breath life into the living woman underneath. Harry sighed as he read. It was... beautiful. Draco had woven the words with the skilful touch of a master. Still, it took him a second to understand exactly WHAT was so moving about the poem. It was very good, yes. But it had feeling poured into it. It was personal in some way Harry couldn't fathom. Then understanding dawned...   
*... Oh god. His mother.*  
Malfoy was writing about his mother. That was... strange. Harry felt like he was intruding in Malfoy's head, but he couldn't put the book down. Guilt sending sharp pangs to Harry's conscience, he continued to read through the next couple of pages, slowly realizing that Malfoy only wrote about things that had significance to him, personal poetry about school, family, his life, how he felt... Harry knew that for the first time he was getting a glimpse behind the Malfoy Mask of cold contempt. He was seeing DRACO. 


	4. everything about you

Disclaimer: see chap 1. Oh, and Stabbing Westward wrote all lyrics used here as ~poetry~. They used to rock my world, man.  
  
  
A/N: Well, I've finally returned to ff.net, after a prolonged absence due to extreme disillusionment with life in general. I just hope I'll be able to return to these fics and return to writing with the right tone and feeling for the characters I feel a little disconnected from now. Please people, R&R, let me know how I'm doing. I could use a little help here. Thank you all for being so patient!   
  
  
Harry, fork in hand, sat staring at the food in front of him. It looked and smelled delicious and he noticed none of this.   
  
~Everything I touch I break. The more I feel, the more I die. Nothing to give... nothing inside.~   
  
Something poking him... "Hmmm, what?"  
Ron paused, studying his friend for a second. "I said, someone obviously didn't get a lot of sleep last night." Harry, only half-listening, replied somewhat vaguely "Oh... yeah, no." Aware of his friend's scrutiny, he shook himself and struggled to form a coherent reply.  
*Come on Harry, get it together. Stop dwelling on those damn poems!*  
"Uh, yeah, I just couldn't sleep last night." Hermione peered at him over a textbook, and Harry squirmed under her gaze. "Are you sure you're alright Harry? You do look a little peaky this morning."   
"I'm fine, really. I just... need a little sleep, I guess." Harry muttered, distracted. He scanned the Slytherins, trying to catch a glimpse of pale blond hair... So, he still hadn't come to breakfast. Harry wasn't sure why he kept looking for the elusive Draco. He felt strange, A little shaky.   
  
~A darkness grows inside me in fading shades of grey, and all the colours of the world are slowly sucked away~   
  
Harry berated himself silently.  
*I can't believe I didn't see it before. I always took his taunts and  
attitude at face value. It guess it never really occurred to me that there  
was an actual person behind the sneer, a REASON.*   
And there was the answer to his jitters. He wanted to see if this changed the way he acted towards Malfoy, changed the way he saw him. Or maybe, just maybe, it was so he could run and hide.   
*Malfoy was going to kill me!*   
On that rather charming note, the object of Harry's inner turmoil sidled into the hall. He looked rather pale, even for Malfoy. Harry froze, unable to look away as quick sliver eyes swept the room, searching... searching... and finally locking on Harry. Malfoy tensed... the remaining colour drained from his face, his jaw slack.   
*He knows. He KNOWS I read the book.*   
Harry, still frozen in place, watched as Malfoy's eyes widened, narrowed... then he wasn't looking at Harry. In fact, he was looking anywhere BUT Harry. Once he's finished not looking in Harry's direction, he was turning, turning and fleeing the hall.   
  
  
Draco swore, ducking under the table to scrabble around the floor again. No, the book was definitely gone. That could mean a couple of things.  
1. He'd left it somewhere else  
2. The room was cursed  
3. It had been found and confiscated by Filch. Not the best outcome, but it could be worse, because...  
4. Harry could have his book.  
Instinctively, Draco felt the latter to be true. Harry had his book. His book. HARRY had his BOOK. A dry sob escaped his throat, and he clamped his hands firmly over his mouth to muffle the choking.   
Shaking, shaking, sinking to the floor and   
*get a hold of yourself Draco. Come on, pull yourself together man. You're a  
Malfoy, not some weak, pathetic mudblood!*  
At this point, his inner voice had taken the tone of his father, and Draco wrapped his arms around his head in an attempt to muffle that sound as much as the other.   
*Crap...crap.*   
  
  
He approached the hall slowly, shaking, but in control. A small scoff at that.  
*Yeah sure, in control Draco. Keep telling yourself that you might just  
believe it.*   
He had to stop before the doors, taking a second to pull into himself, settling the mask firmly into place.   
*Just breathe...*  
Pulling the door open and searching... searching... finding brilliant green eyes locked with his, and Draco is absurdly reminded of the spider.   
*Does that make me the fly?*   
He can see the knowledge lurking behind the startling emerald gaze...   
*He read it. He read it. He read it... no, please no. No!*   
Whirling, running...   
*No, no, no!*  
  
...oblivious to the footsteps pounding behind his... 


	5. is innate happiness

Disclaimer: see chap 1  
  
A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed! *Mwa* Feedback, food for the soul, baby. This chapter is dedicated to Leah, because I promised her it wouldn't happen, and it HAS. Hopefully she'll be distracted by the fact that she's got a dedication... Damn, I am in sooo much trouble on Tuesday *wince*   
NOTE: This story is getting a lil' SLASHY people. You have been warned.   
  
"Malfoy! Wait!" Harry jumped from his seat and sprinted towards the door Malfoy had lingered in only moments before. He was completely oblivious to the deafening silence that had fallen in the great hall following his abrupt depature, as the other students watched on, incredulous. Ron, frozen in place, his jaw hanging, jumped as Hermione dropped her spoon and it clashed with her plate. Seemingly ignorant of the fact she had just splattered herself with milk, she turned to Ron. "Now what was THAT all about?" Ron, shock rendering not quite capable of speech, merely shook his head.  
  
"Malfoy!" The cry went unheeded.   
*Sodding Potter, stupid bloody Potter, I hate him I hate him I HATE HIM.*   
The mantra ran itself over and over through Draco's head. His thoughts whirled and tripped over themselves and in the confusion Draco gave up any effort at coherent thought. His legs on auto-pilot, he ran on. It wasn't until he nearly collided with a stone wall that had 'mysteriously appeared' in front of him, that he realized he had absolutely no clue as the where in Hogwart's he was. He blinked at the wall in vague surprise, then felt a choking laughter bubble up through his chest and pour out of his throat in what Draco, distantly horrified, identified as broken, babbled giggling. Eyes wide, he clamped a hand over his mouth and bit down on his palm. Hard. Still his chest shuddered with suppressed mirth that was Draco vaguely noted was bordering on the hysterical side.   
*What is WRONG with me? Calm down, you stupid bastard! Just breath.   
Calm... just calm yourself...*   
Concentrating on keeping his ragged breathing even, Draco turned, eyes closed, and lent back against cool stones. He felt the chill of the rock sink slowly through the fabric of his robe, settling against his over heated skin. Draco pushed back hard against the wall, eager to feel the cold wrap itself around the length of his spine. He turned his head, pushing one flushed cheek to the stone. He distantly realized that his breathing had evened itself out. He was no longer gasping for shallow breaths of air. Now to figure out why this had provoked a panic attack. Well, the person he despised more than any else he had ever known (and that was saying something. Draco knew more people who were worth despising than he cared to admit.) now knew things he would never even admit to his closest friends. His enemy knew his weaknesses. A bad position to be in. How could he have been so stupid? He shifted his head away from the wall, then lightly banged it back into place.   
*Stupid...*   
Something pulled at the edge of his thoughts, and he gradually became aware of the other presence in the corridor. Draco grimaced slightly, and, still huddled against the solid presence of the wall, spat out "Potter. How...nice... of you to join me."  
  
Harry raced after the light figure disappearing down a stair well off the main corridor. "Malfoy!" Even as he yelled it, he knew it was futile. Instead, mouth set in a grimly determined line, he used the energy saved on yelling into a burst of speed. He bolted down the stair well, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste to reach the blond. Harry burst from the stairs only to panic as he realized said blond had completely disappeared from view. Forcing down the rising alarm, he ran along the tunnel. As he passed an opening to his left, the echoing patter flying feet caught his ear. Harry chased down the sound, becoming lost in the maze that was the underbelly of Hogwarts. Then the pounding of feet abruptly halted. Harry froze, uncertain. He flinched back at the harsh guttural sound that greeted him. It took him a second to register that, no, he was NOT going to be attacked by some slimy dungeon THING. The noise in question was coming from Malfoy... God, he hated that sound!   
*I did that to him...   
Oh dear god, this is all my fault!*   
As Harry cautiously approached the turn off Malfoy had taken, the gurgling was sharply muffled. He edged round the corner, and was taken aback at the scene before him. Malfoy was shifting against the stone wall at the end of the corridor. He turned his head slightly, rubbed a heated cheek against the rock, then stilled. Harry gapped at the picture Malfoy made, an elegant sprawl, flush rising against the pale snow of his skin, hair like spun silver falling across a jutting cheekbone and Harry didn't know when he'd become quite so poetic. The guttering torches caused strange shadows to flicker across the plains of Draco's face. He looked... vulnerable.   
*Delectable.   
Beautiful.*  
And that was a place Harry was NOT going. Shocked at his rebellious mind, he mentally slapped himself, determined to deny he'd EVER had that thought.   
*It's just the book. It's the poetry. I didn't know a snake like Malfoy was   
capable of creating such...beauty.   
Beautiful.*   
And there was that word again. And, oh God, Malfoy was talking to him. Harry cleared his throat. "Pardon?" And, oh, his voice did NOT just break. Oh no, no no. Harry decided to take up permanent residence in the Land of Denial as Malfoy turned to face him, stormy eyes flickering open and studying him curiously. A small smirk graced lips that were far to distracting as a silver brow arched questioningly, almost mocking. "Potter?"   
"I... umm. I, Malfoy..." Nope, Harry wasn't getting anywhere near coherent and it was time to leave. So he did. 


	6. now I won't settle for less

I think it's about time for another  
Disclaimer: *checks* Nope, still not mine.  
  
A/N: Once again, thanks to Leah for yelling 'update!' at me every time I pass her in the hall. Also, big thanks to everyone who reviewed. I love you guys. "You guys, are me best friends, through thick and..." no! I'm stopping now or I'll have to redo the disclaimer... Come on people. Bring on the constructive criticism. Or just the criticism. Your call.  
  
... and, oh, Draco just heard the boy wonder squeak. He turned, one brow reaching for his hairline. "Potter?" He watched the other boy squirm under his gaze, eyes wide, jaw working ridiculously. "I... umm. I, Malfoy..." Draco watched the panic fly unchecked across Harry's face.   
*Potter looks like a startled rabbit.*   
He frowned mentally, wondering when his analogies started relating to small furry cute things. A small, desperate, not to mention awkward, noise rushed from Harry's mouth. Draco blinked, and Harry was gone. The smirk on his face slid sideways as he listened to Harry's retreating flurry of feet.  
*Wait a minute. What the hell is he running from? Not that I'm complaining,  
mind, however I do believe that I'm the one whose supposed to be flipping  
out right about now.   
Not that Malfoys 'flip out'.   
Ever.*  
Draco smiled to himself, crossed his arms, and settled back to wait.  
  
*Oh oh god oh bloody hell this is not happening this is NOT happening!*  
Harry rushed blindly back along the corridor, catching his shoulder against the rough rock. He let out a hiss of pain he wasn't fully conscious of uttering. Mindlessly grabbing his shoulder to ease the pain, he ran on, thoughts whirling.  
*Not Malfoy anyone but Malfoy please this is not happening not now not EVER!*   
Babbled incoherent thoughts rushed over each other, all vying to be heard and believed and Harry knows that he's lying to himself, and he honestly doesn't care.   
*Not. Malfoy.  
... too late.*  
And with that realisation Harry felt his mind go numb; his momentum slowed and he came to a halt. He absentmindedly rubbed his aching shoulder as the thought settled slowly through the others, brushing them aside like so many cobwebs.   
*...too late.*  
He shook his head, immediately displacing and burying the idea, deeply unnerved and unsettled. Harry, realising he'd come to a stop, looked around; vaguely surprised to realise he was still in the same corridor.   
*Thank god.*   
Getting lost in the maze that was the Hogwart's underground was not high on his list of 'Really Fun Ways in Which to Spend my Day'. It only came in at number 36.   
Following on the heels of that realisation came the knowledge that there really was only one other option available to him at this time. He winced and attempted to rub away the pressure building at his temples. With a sigh, Harry turned and trudged back towards the tunnel he'd come from, steeling himself to face the dragon waiting at the end.  
  
Draco listened with interest as the footsteps receded... then came to a halt. Silence. He shifted, slightly unnerved.   
*What the hell is Potter DOING? Stupid bastard.*  
Then slow, dragging steps, sound getting louder and Draco smirks.   
*Knew you'd come crawling back Potter. Where else you going to go?*  
At that, the smirk fell, just a touch.  
*Screw Potter, how the hell am ~*I*~ going to get out of here?*  
Watching the entrance of the corridor intently, the smirk returned, more amused this time, as a mop of dark hair and spectacles inched into view at the mouth of the tunnel. Sighting Draco, the eyes behind the spec widened, and the head pulled back, only to be replaced with the boy himself. Harry, reluctance made known in the rigid line of his posture, muscles taut, walked cautiously towards the other boy. Draco grinned, enjoying the reaction, if not understanding the cause. "What's wrong Potty? Afraid I'm going to bite?" The grin grew dangerously close to 'taunting smile' territory as Harry visibly flinched. Harry stopped, eyes skimming along the walls of the tunnel, certainly NOT looking at the silver-haired one, before gazing stolidly at his feet.   
*What is going ON here? I've missed something...*   
"Potter, correct me if I'm wrong, but as things stand, I should be the one avoiding you." Harry peered up at Draco from under his lashes and bangs of mussed up hair. He sighed, straightened, and ran a shaking hand through said birds nest. "You don't... I just... Oh hell." He turned to look Draco squarely in the face. "Do you have ANY idea where to go from here?" Draco watched Harry closely, somehow sensing unspoken layers he couldn't, quite, grasp to the question. "Hmmm, if I said 'no', how would you feel about that?" Harry bit his lip, and shot Draco a look he labelled 'Decidedly Unfriendly'. "Malfoy..." The threat of a decking echoed in that utterance of his name. Bristling a little, Draco shot back "Potter, I did not ask you to chase me down here. Nor did I ask you to take my private property, which you promptly used to invade my private headspace and made this hasty retreat rather necessary. In fact, I'm going to go out on a limb here and say THIS IS ALL YOUR BLOODY FAULT!"   
"Malfoy, you are so full of shit! If that had been my...journal... you would have read it! Don't even think about denying it!"   
"I really don't think that has ANY bearing on our current situation Potter. Because I didn't find and read your most intimate thoughts, did I?"  
Anger at boiling point, Harry grabbed Malfoy by the robe and yanked him close, ignoring the boy's struggle against his hold. "Malfoy, you make my life a living hell! Don't even think about making me the bad guy here! God, why can't you... why can't you just leave me the fuck alone? Huh? Just stay. Out. Of my. Life!" he spat in Draco's face, punctuating each word with a slam of body against stone. Draco gasped as the air was forced from his lungs. He scrabbled at Harry's hands, trying to free his shoulders. "Potter..." he managed to choke out as he stared into the swirling fury in Harry's eyes. Harry's eyes... seemed to take up his vision, swallowing the rest of the world in an emerald void. "Potter..." Harry stared back, panting heavily and frozen in place, anger seeping away as he saw the fear swelling in those beautiful liquid quick-silver eyes. Underneath the fear... he made out a faint trace of detached annoyance. Typical Malfoy. A smile threatened to break across his face at thought, quickly followed by the realisation the he and Malfoy were mere millimetres apart. His eyes swept across the milky arch of perfect cheekbones, the delicate bow of soft, full lips and finally settled back on those amazing eyes.   
*...too late, indeed.* 


	7. give me

Disclaimer: see chapter 6  
  
A/N: Big apologies all round people! Thank you to cyanide blue for mentioning the changing tenses. I hadn't checked the layout of my story once posted, and as such didn't realize the formatting I'd used didn't work. So hence the apology guys. Present tense is meant to denote character thought. From now on, this will be shown as *character's thoughts*.   
Sorry this chapter took a while to come out. I have been sickly. For that reason, this chapter's a short one.   
As always, for Leah, my motivating force (poor girl has a tough job ^-^) and kudos also go out to cyanide blue, Arizosa, Pathetic Invader, SilverSerpent, Fanny Chan and whoever left the anonymous 'tease!!!!' Possibly one of the best reviews I have EVER received.   
Oh yeah, and if anyone wants to beta, I'm open to offers. I suck at editing. Anyway, ON WITH THE STORY!  
  
*So close*  
"Potter..." Harry shivered as Draco's breath brushed gently against his own lips. Eyes intently scanning and memorizing that perfect, delicate face, he failed to realize Draco had stilled within his grasp. "P...Potter? What are you..?"   
*Oh... GOD!*  
Abruptly coming to his senses, Harry pushed away from Draco. He shook his head, not sure whether this was to clear it, or an act of denial. Breathing harshly, he looked back at the other boy. Draco was slumped against the wall, breath coming in ragged gasps, confusion written all over his face. Harry watched as he raised one hand to massage the material at the shoulder Harry had been gripping. Neither of them spoke, making the sound of their breathing echo loudly through the corridor. Harry shuffled, uncomfortable in the heavy silence. He cleared his throat. "So... any ideas as to how to get out of here?" A tight smile caught at the edge of Draco's mouth. "Not really Potter. I was planning on going with the assumption that you'd come up with a brilliant plan to save the day, as per usual. Seems to be more your area than mine." He shrugged. "Don't worry, I'm sure they'll send a search party out to find us." A bitter smirk crossed his face. "After all, where would we be without the 'Boy Who Lived'?" Harry scowled. "Malfoy, I swear... just... get us out of here!"   
"And how do you propose I... wait, wait! I can do this. Give me a second..." Draco reached into his pocket, tugging his wand free. Harry tensed, about to go for his own, when Draco shot him a scornful look. "Relax Potty, I'm not going to waste my time on you. Now just sit there be quiet like a good boy. I've got to concentrate." Suppressing a smirk as Harry's eyes narrowed dangerously, Draco focused on the task at hand. Harry stood back and watched as Draco extended a palm, muttering to himself. A ball of light flickered into life above the center of his hand, bathing his chest and face in white light. With his wand, he drew a sigil Harry couldn't identify over the glowing sphere. "Okay, here comes the painful part..." Returning his wand to the pocket, Draco stood, eyes fixed on the light, fishing through his pocket. "Malfoy... what are you doing?" Draco eyes flickered towards Harry for an instant. "Didn't I tell you to shut up?" he said, distracted. Before Harry could reply, Draco gave a triumphant "A ha!" A silver sliver glimmered in the hand Draco had raised victoriously before him. "Found it." Harry stared, uncomprehending. "A pin? What do you need that for?" Draco shot him a withering glare. "What do you think, Potty?"   
"Will you stop calling me that? And... what are you doing?" Harry was vaguely horrified to realize what Draco had planned.  
*He's going to stab himself with that! But that's... that's blood magic!   
Dark magic!*   
Draco, face a mask of concentration, (and Harry did NOT find it cute that Draco stuck out his tongue when concentrating) was holding the pin upright between his middle finger and thumb. His index finger hovered over the tip and he cringed in anticipation of the pain to follow. He hesitated, seemingly aware of the weight of Harry's gaze. "What?"  
"Malfoy...that's... you can't..." Harry fought to verbalize his feelings, but the words kept slipping away from him.  
"Can't what Potter? Use blood in a spell?" He sneered "Oh please. Look, it's not a dark arts spell. It just needs part of a persons 'essence', if you will, to track them. And considering the amount of residual magic around here, a strand of hair isn't going to do the trick, and we DON'T want the spell to mess up. Frankly, the thought of becoming any more lost than I am right now, with YOU, is not exactly a pleasant one." He considered the other boy for a moment, and Harry squirmed under the look of vicious satisfaction creeping into that gaze. Without another word, he lowered his finger to rest on the pin's side...then held it out to Harry. 


	8. all of the bliss

Disclaimer: See chap. 6 (I think...)  
  
A/N: Apologies to all. Sorry this chapter took a long time to come out. I've had a busy couple of weeks. I am also gifted in the art of understatement. Blergh, you have NO idea. Hopefully the update was worth waiting for... Thanks to all who reviewed (you know who you are. My heart beats faster every time I see the review alert addy pop up in my inbox. You guys are my heroes^-^.) Shout out to Leah, I'm going to miss you next year, girl! Keep reading, yah? Please? *bambi eyes* And a HUGE whopping thank you thank you thank you! to Kate, my newly acquired beta. This could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship. Or maybe I just need to get over my latest Bogart kick...   
  
  
  
Draco watched as Harry visibly shrunk away from him. A darkly amused grin spread across his face. "What's wrong Potter?" Harry's eyes flickered from their position on the pin, and rose to meet Draco's.   
  
"What's..." and Harry paused, swallowing hard, "What's it for?"   
  
Draco waved an impatient hand in Harry's direction, once again focused on the glowing sphere in his hand. "I just told you, Potty. It's a tracking spell," he pronounced. As far as he was concerned, that should have been obvious. Hearing Harry's impatient sigh, he groaned his frustration then turned to face the other boy.   
  
"Look, the original spell creates a small, contained, ball of energy transmitted as light. It's...well; it's similar to your standard 'Lumos', right? Well, the second part of the spell, the part you are currently interrupting--" Draco shot Harry a pointed glare-- "is like a sort of, tracking device. We feed this ball part of you or me, like hair or skin, it will be able to follow the path we took to GET here, and maybe JUST MAYBE, we'll be able to avoid starving to death in the dungeons of our fair school. Is that enough information for you? Or shall I pull out my handy pocket 'my first spell' encyclopaedia and quote it to you, word for word?" Draco felt a small twinge of satisfaction as Harry flinched under the force of his patented Sledgehammer of Sarcasm(tm). He watched the thoughts fly across Harry's face with faint fascination. Anger turned to confusion progressing through thoughtful and finally landing on questioning.   
  
*The boy broadcasts everything he's thinking. Fool. Wonder if he knows how   
easy it is to read him?*   
  
"But... why the blood? I mean, hair should be enough, right? Blood magic..." Harry trailed off. Draco growled softly, a husky deep expulsion of his growing frustration. "Look, Potter, I don't ha..." the sentence died unfinished as Draco looked towards Harry. Who had frozen in place. Emerald eyes wide, staring intently at a point Draco was vaguely uncomfortable to recognize as his mouth.   
  
He sucked in a sharp breath, and watched Harry swallow. Hard. He shifted, fighting to find something to break the suddenly tense silence that had fallen around them, and how had the atmosphere become so charged anyway? Draco shook himself, and, angry at Harry for unsettling him, blurted out, "Look, Potter, just give me your bloody arm!"   
  
  
Harry, startled, raised his arm unthinkingly at the request. A flash of silver, then..."Ow!" Harry snatched his arm back, intending to nurse it against his chest. With the quick cat-like reflexes, Draco dropped the pin and seized the arm in question. At his touch the lean muscles under his hand tensed. Draco whipped the ball of light under the steady dark stream of blood dripping from Harry's forearm. It flared, casting the room in dark pink light, searing the sight from the two boys.  
  
"Bollocks!" Draco snatched his hand away from Harry, shielding his eyes, and seeing Harry doing the same with the hand not dripping blood. That, he held tightly to his chest. Draco snorted. "Stop being such a baby, Potty. I'm sure it didn't hurt that much."  
  
Harry's head whipped towards him. "Shut it, you bloody bastard! You... you're...you're such a wanker, Malfoy!"  
  
Draco airily ignored the comment, as the glow faded. The ball jumped in his palm, spun twice, then leaped forward. Draco stared after it for a fraction of a second, then took off after it, grabbing Harry's robe and yanking him forward. "Come on Potter. Time to find our way out of here."  
  
  
  
  
Harry ran, watching the blond head bobbing a few feet in front of him.   
  
*Bastard. Can't believe he used that thing on me!*  
  
He was so wrapped up in thought, he almost missed the next turn. "Bugger!" Draco turned briefly. "Potter! Hurry up, you twat! We'll lose it if you keep that up." Harry scowled in return, and concentrated on where he was heading.  
  
Harry watched with relief as the guide disappeared up a spiral staircase. "That's it! That's where we came in!" Harry shouted to Malfoy. He got no response, only the quickening of the other boy's pace. Harry surged forward, careful not to trip up the stairs, and then suddenly he and Draco spilled forward into the main hall. He paused, fighting for breath. Draco, doubled over in exhaustion, pulled out his wand and nixed the sphere as it hurtled back towards the dinning hall.   
  
"Harry!" He turned, and found Ron and Hermione running towards him. "Harry, we've been looking for you all over! Everyone's terribly worried." They pulled up in front of him, Hermione scrupulously checking Harry over for bruises. A breathy sardonic chuckle caught his attention. He turned to Malfoy, watching the boy straighten up as his breath returned.  
  
"Told you they'd send a search party for you, Potter." There was no mistaking the bitterness held in that statement. Ron's face fell into a scowl as Hermione whipped round to ream Draco.  
  
"Hermione!" Harry called, not sure why, but stopping the rant before it started. "I'm fine, let's just... let's just head back to the common room, okay? I'm a little tired."  
  
Oh, that did it. Hermione's anger wrinkled nose turned his way. "Harry Potter, in case you've forgotten, some of us actually have classes to attend, and if you don't want to fail, I'd advise you be one of them." Classes... he'd forgotten all about class. Smiling weakly into her ferocious scowl, Harry meekly gave a simple "Yes, Hermione." The three of them walked away, leaving a sniggering Slytherin in their wake. 


End file.
